


the world will end in fire

by alakewood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Threesome - M/M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-25
Updated: 2011-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-21 18:30:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alakewood/pseuds/alakewood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time it happened, it was an accident.  A mistake.  A fluke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. sparks

The first time it happened, it was an accident. A mistake. A fluke.

It was heat and friction and desperation that let loose a shower of sparks and ignited a slow burn within two bodies that weren't supposed to yearn for each other. Perhaps it was that it was forbidden, taboo, _wrong_ , that stoked the flames higher.

 ****

oxo

They were in south Texas on a job and Dean had left them at the motel while he went to talk to the Frio County sheriff in Pearsall. Locals had been going wild with reports of a chupacabra, but, to the Winchesters – who knew chupracabras were just urban legends – it seemed likely something far more sinister was terrorizing and mutilating the livestock in the area. Or it was just a pack of wild dogs, Dean told him when he'd called as he left the courthouse.

The attacks had been going on for years, but the weather had been dry and a lot of the dogs' normal prey had grown scarce, hence the moving on to larger game. A half-dozen sheep, a calf, and a whole slew of chickens. Sam was slightly disappointed as he tossed his cell onto the nightstand and collapsed onto the bed nearest the door. “Not our kind of gig,” he called to Adam. “Twenty bucks says he brings back Mexican again.”

“Let's hope to God not,” Adam said, emerging from the bathroom.

“What the hell is that?” Sam laughed, beckoning his younger brother closer. “Another of your souvenirs?”

Adam crossed the short distance from the bathroom to Sam's bedside. “Yeah. Picked it up in that truck stop outside Dallas.”

Sam reached for the engraved, gold-colored belt buckle sitting low on Adam's waist, back of his knuckles grazing worn denim.

Adam sucked in a breath through his teeth, hips unintentionally rolling forward. “Shit,” he whispered, taking a step back.

“Hey.” Sam's fingertips caught in Adam's front pockets, stilled his younger brother then pulled him into the space between his spread thighs.

Adam shook his head, kept his gaze focused on Sam's face but his brother wasn't looking at him. “Sam.” Something of a warning and a plea in that breath of a word.

Sam's intent hazel stare slipped up Adam's body, lingered on his mouth before settling on wide blue eyes. “You okay?”

“What are you doing?” Adam questioned quietly, fingers curling around Sam's and removing them from his pockets. “We can't do this.”

“Can't do what?” Sam cupped the backs of Adam's thighs, slid his palms upwards over the well-broken-in cotton, over Adam's ass, long fingers splayed wide. “This?”

“We shouldn't.” But he didn't try to move out of Sam's loose hold on him.

“But you want to.” His fingers tensed, squeezed.

Adam's eyes slipped closed. “Sam. Please.”

“Yeah. C'mere.” Sam's fingers closed over that big golden belt buckle as he fumbled to undo Adam's belt, button, zipper, tug of jeans and boxers down Adam's hips, and his half-hard brother was exposed to Sam's hungry gaze.

“Fuck,” Adam cursed, hands going to cradle Sam's head as his brother's mouth closed over the head of his cock. Lips, tongue, twist of Sam's spit-slick fist. Adam couldn't hold himself back, thrust into that wet heat and Sam took it, moaned around Adam's hard length and hollowed his cheeks, almost-painful suck as he pulled off Adam's dick.

Sam stood, fist still working his brother, bodies close as he tilted his head towards Adam's. He caught his lower lip between his teeth as he stared at Adam's mouth. “Can I?”

Adam answered by replacing Sam's teeth with his own and he sucked on Sam's tongue like Sam had sucked on his dick.

Sam's hand pumped faster between their bodies as Adam panted into his mouth. “Come on. You gonna come for me?”

“Fuck, Sam.” He fisted his fingers in Sam's hair and crushed their mouths together, spilling hot and sudden over Sam's fingers.

Headlights washed over the front windows of their motel room, familiar rumble of the Impala rattling the glass in the panes.

“Dean. _Shit._ ” Adam fumbled with his fly, backed towards the bathroom.

Sam followed, held Adam's gaze as he brought his hand to his mouth to swipe the tip of his tongue over a knuckle. “Mind if I wash up quick? Take care of some business?”

Wide-eyed again, Adam involuntarily glanced at the bulge in the front of Sam's jeans. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

Sam pressed his lips to Adam's again, licked his mouth open to let Adam taste himself on Sam's tongue as Dean closed the Impala's driver's side door outside. “I'll take a rain-check.” At the surprise on Adam's face, Sam laughed and disappeared into the bathroom.

A moment later, Dean pushed through the front door, grease-spotted bag in hand. “Who wants tacos?”


	2. spontaneous combustion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in months, Dean leaves Sam and Adam to themselves. They use their time wisely.

The second time it happened was a lot like the first – an act borne out of a deep-seated desperation and a mutual, aching want. But it couldn't be as easily dismissed. Forgotten.

 ****

oxo

It had been weeks since the last time – the first time. Three weeks, four days, and a handful of hours, by Adam's count. To Sam, though, he measured time in distance, and they were some thirty-five hundred miles and counting away from that night in southern Texas.

It seemed that Dean had somehow sensed the shift in his younger brothers' relationship with each other, even if he wasn't sure exactly what that shift _was_ , because he never left them alone for more than a few minutes at a time. Except for when they were in Adam's truck, behind him on the highway. But, even then, they weren't alone – Dean's watchful gaze on them through the rearview mirror, even in the dark.

A whole month had passed – forty-two hundred miles – before Dean was comfortable (or horny) enough to leave them to themselves for an hour. They were at some dive bar outside Madison, some place Adam had recommended from his short stint as a college student, and it hadn't taken Dean long to amass a small harem of adoring college girls. They stood around in amazement while Dean hustled pool, and Adam and Sam hung back at a table in the corner, commiserating about their brother over a pitcher of beer. A pitcher became two, became shots when Dean took a guy for a hundred and fifty bucks. Shots all around, and Dean swaggered over to Sam and Adam's table, casting a quick glance over his shoulder to the pretty blonde local waiting for him at the end of the bar. “Give me about an hour before you head back to the room, yeah?”

Sam gave the young woman a cursory look before turning back towards Dean. “An hour. And make sure you air the place out this time.”

Dean quirked a smile and punched Sam playfully in the shoulder. “Will do. See you bitches later.”

Sam and Adam shared a look and watched Dean leave before Sam stood. “Gotta hit the head. Be right back.”

Adam wasn't sure if Sam had just dropped him a hint or if he actually had to go, so he waited a couple of minutes before following after his brother and caught Sam just as he was coming out of the bathroom. “Hey.” Couldn't help the nervous waver to his voice. “You want to?” They didn't have long. Couldn't waste a minute or a mile.

Something dark glittered in Sam's eyes, then his mouth was hot and wet on Adam's, bruising with pressure and suction until Adam pulled away and pushed Sam towards the rear exit.

Adam's truck was parked in the last space of the lot along the north side of the building, the passenger's side obscured in deep shadow. “Didn't think I'd get to,” Adam breathed against Sam's mouth before slipping his tongue inside to tangle with Sam's, to draw out a moan as his hands dropped to Sam's waist and made quick work of his belt and the fly of his jeans. His right hand slipped into Sam's boxer-briefs, fingers curled around the hot, hardening length of him. Jerked Sam to full hardness while he fucked Sam's mouth with his tongue.

“Been waiting for this,” Sam panted as he watched Adam sink to his knees on the cracked asphalt. “Jack off in the shower thinking of your mouth on my dick.”

“Shit.” Adam palmed his cock through his jeans, fisted Sam a couple more times as he leaned forward. “I've never done this before.”

“'s okay. Just do what you like.”

Adam nodded, tongued the tiny slit in the head of Sam's cock before sucking as much of his brother into his mouth as he could, worked his fist and bobbed his head in tandem, felt Sam's fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Fuck, yeah.” Sam's heavy-lidded gaze was trained with laser precision on Adam's mouth.

Adam pulled off, traced the tip of his tongue down the underside of Sam's shaft until his nose was nestled against Sam's sac. He gently sucked it into his mouth and Sam moaned loudly above him, an almost pained sound, and Adam responded with a low groan of his own at the musky-saline taste of his brother's skin. He released Sam's balls, trailed lips and the light scrape of teeth up Sam's cock and swallowed him down again.

Sam panted harshly, fingers tangled in Adam's short hair. “Fuck, I'm gonna- _Fuck._ ”

Adam abruptly pulled back, his hand stilling at the base of Sam's dick. He stared up into Sam's dark, pupil-blown eyes. “I want you to- I want you to fuck me.” He stood, kissed Sam all wide, wet mouth and slick tongue obscene. “Is it too fast?”

Sam grunted under his breath, eyes slipping closed. He bit his lower lip and opened his eyes again, staring at Adam with unconcealed lust and want and something dangerous. “You sure?”

“You might think about my mouth on your dick when you get off, but I think of your dick inside me.” Adam broke eye contact as his embarrassment at his honesty burned hot in his cheeks.

“Hey.” Sam's voice was quiet and rough as he pulled Adam's mouth to his and kissed him slowly while he let his hands wander down Adam's sides and around to the front of his jeans. He popped the button and slid the zipper down, fit both hands into the waistband of Adam's boxers and pushed them down his brother's thighs. “I don't have anything,” he said, thumb swiping over the head of Adam's leaking cock.

“Spit. Spit'll work, won't it?” He arched up into Sam's touch.

“I wasn't talking about-”

Adam reached for Sam's dick, fisted him as he thrust into Sam's loose grip, matching the pace. “Fuck if I care. Just- _shit._ Just want you inside me.”

“Adam-”

“We're running out of time,” Adam nearly whined. “Just- just fuck me already.”

The sound Sam made was nearly a growl as he slicked two of his fingers up on the precome leaking from the head of Adam's dick before spinning his brother around, fingers slipping into the crack of his ass to stroke against his entrance.

Adam braced his hands on the hood of his truck, trying and failing to find purchase as Sam slowly worked those long fingers inside of him. He arched his back, pressing Sam's fingers deeper. “Sam, please.”

“You're not-” A third finger barely fit, made Adam tense and writhe beneath him.

“I am. Come on.”

“I don't-”

“You won't. _Sam,_ ” he moaned.

“Fuck.”

Adam felt Sam's fingers slip free, looked back over his shoulder to see Sam's intense gaze focused between their bodies. Watched Sam lift his right palm to his mouth and lick a wide stripe across it. Their eyes met on the second pass and Adam felt his neglected cock twitch against his belly.

“I don' t think this is gonna help much,” Sam said, spit-slick hand disappearing from Adam's view. He wrapped it around his dick, coated it best he could before his left hand spread Adam open and he nudged the head against the tight pucker there. “Holy mother of...” Sam groaned, pressing into and past the tight ring of muscle.

Adam's held-in breath left him in a harsh pant as he collapsed against the hood of his truck. “Oh, God.”

Sam stilled. “Does it hurt? Am I-”

“It's- it's okay. Keep going.” He grit his teeth and tried his best to relax knowing tensing up was only going to make the pain worse.

Taking it slow wasn't working, was just driving Sam insane. Hands firm on Adam's hips, fingers no doubt bruising, he angled his pelvis and thrusted up into his brother's torturous heat.

“Son of a-” Adam slapped the flat of his palm on the hood of the truck even as he arched back against Sam.

Left hand still gripping tight, Sam slipped his right low across Adam's stomach and lower to wrap his fingers around the younger man's straining, throbbing cock as he set a tentative pace, more just a slow roll of his hips than anything. “You good?” He closed his mouth over the skin of Adam's neck just below his ear, teeth catching and tugging.

“So good,” Adam breathed, rocking back into Sam, turning his head to catch Sam's mouth in a heated kiss. “Now, c'mon. Y'don't gotta be gentle.”

So much friction. _Too_ much friction, and Sam knew Adam would feel it – feel _him_ \- for days, maybe weeks. And Sam was struck with the idea that perhaps that was the whole point and fuck if that didn't make it hotter. With Adam's permission, he followed his own pleasure, letting his worry about Adam's discomfort fall to the wayside. He started a frantic rhythm, pounding into Adam, pounding the breath right out of both their lungs until they were gasping for air, mouths still close and lips brushing when Adam let his head fall back against Sam's shoulder.

Too much, too soon, too fast. Wasn't going to last, _they_ weren't going to last, and it was Adam that started coming apart first. “Sam,” he moaned, feeling the heat in his belly coiling, pressure building, and his orgasm ripped through him in a burst of white-hot flames as he came over Sam's hand and the side of the truck.

“Oh, fuck,” Sam grunted, feeling the smooth, hot flesh that enveloped his cock start rippling and fluttering, latent heat of his brother's climax fanning the fire of his hunger, his lust, until he was coming too, and the flames consumed them both.

Adam could feel Sam's rapid heartbeat against his back, through the layers of their shirts, and let Sam slump against him, press him against the cool steel of the truck. “You okay?”

“Better than. Just...give me a minute.”

Adam reached a hand back, tangled his fingers in Sam's hair and pulled his brother's mouth to his own in an awkward-angled kiss. “Can't wait to do that again. Preferably in a bed.”

“We'll be lucky to find time to sneak out to the truck,” Sam said, mouth going to work on Adam's neck again as he let his softening dick slip from Adam's ass.

Adam turned and started tucking himself away, watched as Sam did the same. “You think he knows?”

Sam's eyes lifted to Adam's as he tucked the front of his tee into his jeans. He moved in, pressed Adam against the passenger's side door, inches away from where Adam's come smeared in thick drips down the dusty paint. He kissed Adam long and slow like they hadn't already run out of time for this. “No. He knows something's changed, but he doesn't know what. If he knew...he'd say something.”

“You sure?”

Sam bit Adam's lower lip. “Yeah.” He pulled away to let Adam stand up straight. “We should probably...”

“Yeah,” Adam echoed, stepping away from the truck, from Sam, and walking around to the driver's side. They both climbed in and Adam dug the keys from his pocket, started the truck, and pulled out of his parking space. As he stopped at the end of the drive, preparing to turn onto the street, he hesitated, half tempted to head in the direction opposite their motel, just so he could have more time with Sam, but he knew their time had run out for the night.

Sam seemed to sense Adam's uncertainty and reached across the short distance between them. “Don't worry. We'll find the time. We'll figure this out.”


	3. embers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's having doubts about his relationship with Adam and proposes a break.

Their trysts grew increasingly infrequent and sneaking around had become even more difficult – nearly impossible some days. And while it made them want that secret, illicit, burgeoning thing burning between them that much more, Sam was starting to have doubts.

 ****

oxo

Sam had gotten up early, showered before dawn, and was out to get breakfast – with generous amounts of coffee to take the edge off after the taxing hunt and the exhausting drive that followed – while Adam showered and Dean slept on. He wasn't sure if it was the smell of food or the sudden spike of heat in the room when Sam laid eyes on a dripping wet, towel-clad Adam that woke his eldest brother.

Dean tore through his breakfast like he hadn't eaten in days, swiping a piece of Sam's toast and half of Adam's bacon before he stood and stretched and told Sam to load up the car while he got ready.

The tension in the small room was heavy, more oppressive than the smell of greasy truck-stop food, and the pressure dropped as abruptly as Adam's towel as soon as the shower turned on. Then Adam was pressing his naked body against Sam and, for a minute, as Sam's hands roamed over smooth, damp skin, he forgot what he'd wanted to say once they had a moment alone together. But the words were stolen from his tongue and the breath from his lungs as Adam worked a hand into Sam's jeans and fitted his mouth over his brother's.

Sam hesitantly pushed Adam away, firm hands on a firmer chest. “Stop.”

“We've only got a couple minutes. Let's make the most of 'em.” Adam made to press back in, but Sam hadn't moved his hands.

“That's not-” Sam dropped his arms to his sides and backed away. “I think we should end this before it gets too serious.”

Adam scoffed. “I think we crossed that line in Madison in September. Besides, it's not like you can exactly break up with your brother.”

Sam leaned down and picked up his sleeping bag from the floor for want of something to do. “Regardless, we need to stop.” He glanced at Adam, the rejection and betrayal he saw clearly on the younger man's face making his stomach roll. “At least take a break to see if this is what we really want. 'Cause we can't keep this secret forever and it's gonna get really complicated and really messy really fast.”

Adam snatched his towel off the floor. “You're an asshole, you know that?”

Sam nodded. “Get dressed. I'm gonna pack up the car.”

“What-the-fuck-ever.”

But Adam was dressed, sitting slouched at the end of the bed nearest the TV, watching the news with the volume low, when Sam returned a few minutes later. The shower shut off and they could both plainly hear Dean humming Zeppelin's “Ramble On.”

Sam lingered by the doorway, idly twisting Dean's key chain in his fingers, thumbing the worn metal of the Impala's key.

When Dean finally emerged from the bathroom, scrubbing a damp towel over his even damper hair, Adam stood and turned off the TV. “Is it cool if I ride with you today?”

Dean glanced up at an expressionless Sam and shrugged. “Yeah. Sure. The company would be nice.”

“So where're we headed?” Sam asked and tossed the keys to Dean.

 ****

oxo

Bobby had called Dean the night before with a couple of jobs out east that he wanted the boys to look into – he was too busy with a skinwalker case down in New Mexico. So they headed east and made good time, Sam thankful for the quiet stretch of miles to think about his and Adam's relationship, the situation they'd put themselves in, even while he missed the distraction that was his younger brother.

Their first case, in Ohio, was a standard haunting, a cakewalk, and they had the research done in a matter of hours, grave located and bones salted and burned before midnight. It was late and they were all tired from a day on the road, but Dean still insisted on stopping by a bar for a quick beer. Neither Sam or Adam cared to go back to the motel room alone or with each other, so they agreed and headed to the bar nearest their motel.

Dean was off chatting up a couple of girls across the bar and Adam appeared beside Sam at the counter, flashing a wad of cash from the game of pool he'd just hustled. “So,” he started, pressing between stools at the bar and right up against Sam. “You figured out what you want yet?”

Sam turned his glass in the water ring it had left on the chipped and stained wood counter top. He glanced at Adam out of the corner of his eye and shook his head. “Not yet.”

“How long do you expect me to wait, Sam?”

“I don't.”

“Fine. Then I won't. Give me my keys.”

Sam eyed Adam for a moment before digging into his jacket pocket and fishing out the keys for Adam's truck. “Here.” Their fingers touched as he took them from Sam and they shared an uneasy look before Adam unfolded a ten-dollar bill from his earnings and set it down beside Sam's glass.

“Buy yourself another. I'll be back in the morning.”

Sam watched Adam walk away and sidle up to a group of drunk girls, leaning in towards the ear of a tall brunette, his hand grazing her waist, fingers curling over the small of her back. Sam thought he'd seen her trying to get Adam's attention when they'd first entered the bar and it seemed she'd gotten it. He couldn't ignore the hot flare of jealousy in his stomach as he watched them leave, but knew he had to give Adam the chance to figure out if Sam was really the one he wanted to be with because it would never be easy. Nothing in their lives ever was, but their relationship would take 'difficult' to new levels, starting with how they'd eventually have to tell Dean, Bobby too, and try to explain what they had together.

Sam finished his watered-down whiskey and Coke in one swallow and pocketed the ten before sliding off his stool and crossing the bar to Dean's side. “Hey, Sammy,” Dean greeted, slinging an arm over his shoulder. “What's up? Where's Adam?”

“He headed out.”

Dean arched an eyebrow. “Alone?”

“No.”

Dean grinned then. “Kid _is_ a Winchester. You headin' out, too? Find yourself a girl?” He glanced over his shoulder to look for a woman waiting on his brother, but there was no one. “Come on, Sam, when was the last time you got laid?”

Sam thought back to that Thursday a week and a half before, when Dean had left him and Adam at the library while he went to interview an eye-witness in their case. Making out in the stacks had quickly turned hot and heavy, and they disappeared into the bathroom in the back of the Reference and Local Histories section. Adam had shoved him into the handicapped stall, pushed him up against the cinder block wall and claimed his mouth again, their hands going to work on buttons and zippers. Then Sam's long fingers were curling around their dicks, perfect, firm grip, Adam's hands slipping into the back of Sam's underwear, splayed fingers tensing against muscled cheeks as he arched into Sam's fist, against his cock. He hadn't gotten _laid,_ but it was the last time he'd gotten off with another person. “Hasn't been as long as you think,” Sam said, back in the present, shrugging Dean's arm off his shoulder. “I can walk back to the motel, it's not far. Unless you're gonna need it.”

“Nah. You go on,” Dean smirked. “I've got the car.”

Sam nodded. “Okay, then. Have a good night.”

“Dude, I totally will.” He hit Sam's shoulder with the back of his knuckles. “Be safe.”

Sam eyed the blonde in the low-cut top to Dean's left. “Yeah. You, too.” He clapped Dean on the back and turned, heading for the exit. It took less than ten minutes for Sam to walk the short distance to the motel and he was disheartened to see that Adam's truck wasn't parked outside the door to their room even though he'd expected it wouldn't be.

He dug the room key from his pocket and let himself into the darkened room, not bothering with turning on the lights. He locked the door and started pulling off his clothes, dropping his jacket and overshirt in a pile on top of his duffel before kicking out of his boots. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see Adam's bag on the floor beside his own and had to resist the urge to dig through the dirty laundry for a shirt that smelled of his brother. Instead, he shoved out of his jeans and fumbled through his own bag for his toothbrush and the tube of toothpaste to scrub the sour taste of whiskey and regret from his mouth.

Sam was still half awake in the bed furthest from the door when Dean stumbled into the room a couple of hours later. He couldn't get his thoughts to quiet, simultaneously wondering if he was wrong to doubt his feelings and the pursuit of a relationship with Adam while knowing he was right to give his brother a chance to get out before they were too deep into something they couldn't take back once other people knew. He didn't want the fragile thing they had to fall apart like ashes, become a dark smudge of remorse.

It wasn't until Adam quietly pushed through the door shortly before the sun rose that the conflict in Sam's mind settled and he allowed himself to relax enough to fall into a fitful sleep.


	4. slow burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hunt gone wrong puts Sam's feelings for Adam and the relationship they have into perspective.

“So...werewolves,” Adam said, slipping silver bullets into the chamber of the Beretta revolver he'd taken a liking to.

“Yeah. Werewolves.” Dean shoved a spare mag into the pocket of his leather jacket and closed the Impala's trunk, light from the full moon glinting brightly off the chrome.

“I'm not gonna lie, but it's pretty bad-ass. You guys ever dealt with 'em before?” He was mostly watching Dean but could see Sam out of the corner of his eye, saw the pained expression on his face before he turned away.

It wasn't lost on Dean, either, who clapped a hand against Sam's back. “Once or twice. Let's move out.”

Adam glanced at Sam before following after Dean.

The house was huge – one of those McMansion type deals that was set far back from the street with wrought-iron and brick-column fencing around the yard, separating the overgrown grounds from the well-manicured lawn of the McMansion next door. Closer, it was even more obvious the house had been abandoned for a long time, half the windows broken, soffits and gutters hanging away from the crumbling brick facade. Inside, expensive-looking, embossed wallpaper was bubbling and peeling away from the walls, graffiti was everywhere, beer cans and bottles littered the scratched, wooden boards and the chipped, broken tiles of floors throughout the rooms, and the few pieces of furniture that had been left behind had been torn apart. Vandals, teenagers out looking for destructive fun. Now, werewolves.

Silently, they moved as one unit through the first couple of rooms until they reached a large open space with a spiral staircase leading to the second floor. Dean caught Sam's gaze and pointed to the stairs then tapped Adam's shoulder and gestured towards the back of the house. Adam watched Sam take to the stairs for a moment and started after Dean.

The rear of the house was clear, Adam was slowly opening what they suspected to be the basement door, Dean at the ready with his Colt and a flashlight aimed at the darkness beyond, when they heard muffled shots. Adam felt his heart drop in his chest to bottom out in his stomach. “Sam!” He took off at a sprint before Dean could haul him back, could hear his eldest brother protesting, telling him to slow down, that it could be a trap, but just as Adam was about to enter the room with the staircase, he heard a loud _crack_ above him, then Sam was falling to the floor, taking a length of the wooden bannister with him.

Dean entered the room paces behind him, “Sammy?”

Adam was crouched over their unmoving brother, tentative hands on Sam's face. “Can you hear me? Sam?”

“He okay?” Dean swept the beam of his flashlight along the stairs and the broken railing above.

“I don't know. He's- he's not moving.”

“Is he- he's not-” The beam fell to Sam's face.

Adam's fingers pressed against the side of Sam's throat, slipped down to splay over the center of his chest. “Just unconscious. Pulse is strong; he's breathing.”

“Thank fucking Christ.” He swung the light back towards the stairs. “I'm gonna go up. Stay with him. And stay alert – there could be more than one.”

Adam thumbed the safety off his gun, clutched Sam's hand in his. “You better be okay, you asshole. Swear to God.” He shook his head, pressing closer to Sam, listening to Dean's creaking footsteps on the aging boards above them that slowly tapered off as he headed down the hall. That was when he heard it, as he strained to hear Dean moving upstairs or Sam breathing beside him, a low growl behind him that made the short hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He let Sam's hand slip from his, adjusted his grip on his pistol, and spun around towards the darkness of the kitchen.

It sounded again, more of a snarl, more angry, closer. But Adam saw nothing, not until the werewolf – which looked a hell of a lot more human than he'd expected – was nearly right on top of him. He fired off three shots, but didn't know where he was aiming, hoping at least _one_ hit its intended target, while trying to keep the 'wolf's snapping, drooling jaws away from him, away from Sam. It clawed at him, trying to knock away the gun, slashed across his chest, the length of his arm, the side of his neck, felt the warm slide of blood pouring from his wounds. Adam knew he was nearly out of time, managed to wedge the pistol between their bodies and fired again.

The beast stuttered above him and he felt liquid warmth on his hands. Finally. He pushed the body to the side, braced his feet against the broken tile and pushed himself towards Sam. He felt cold and tired, knew he was losing a lot of blood but- there. He heard a wheeze. “Sam?”

A series of coughs, the shuffle of denim against wood splinters and other debris. “Adam?”

Adam coughed, tasted copper. “Yeah. You okay?”

“Yeah, I think. Aside from the fucking huge-ass headache-” Sam inhaled sharply, the action sending him into another fit, but he was by Adam's side in seconds regardless. “Oh, God.”

“That bad?”

Sam struggled out of his jacket, nearly tore off his overshirt, not bothering with the buttons, then _did_ rip it apart, binding the wounds on Adam's neck and arm, pressing his jacket to the one on his chest. There were two quick _pop_ s upstairs. “Dean! Fuck. _Dean!_ ”

“Sammy?” Thumping of Dean's boots as he ran back down the hall. “You okay?”

“It's Adam – he's. Dean, we gotta _go._ ”

“Sam? Is he bit?” The beam of Dean's flashlight illuminated a circle around them, Sam's shadow falling over Adam, dark pool of blood seeping around him. “Shit.” He took the stairs two at a time.

“I don't- Adam, did it bite you?”

Adam shook his head. “No.”

“You're sure,” Dean said, crouching down beside his brothers.

“A hundred percent.”

Sam carefully slipped his hands under Adam's back, got him sitting and his good arm over Sam's shoulders. “I got you,” he said, pressing his mouth to Adam's ear as he lifted the younger man to his feet. “Dean, pull the car around, yeah?”

Dean scrubbed a hand over his hair, taking in the scene before him a moment longer, before he shoved his Colt in the back of his waistband and took off at a sprint towards the front of the house.

“You're gonna be fine, okay?” Sam whispered fiercely as he carefully maneuvered through the remains of the once-beautiful home. “Adam?” Sam readjusted his hold to get a look at Adam's face, but his brother's neck was slack, head lolling to his chest.

The whole front of the house lit up as the Impala's headlights swept across the windows as Dean brought the car as close to the front door as he could. Sam was coming out the front door as Dean started up the stairs. “I'm gonna grab what I can so you can keep his wounds wrapped tight 'til we get back to the motel.”

“Hurry.” He stood beside the open, rear driver's side door of the Impala, holding up all of Adam's weight, waiting for Dean.

Dean returned only a couple minutes later with pale blue silk curtains in his hands. _Real_ silk, Sam figured, judging by the ornateness that still managed to show through in places where the house hadn't gone to total waste – the kind of silk that took tens of thousands of silk worms just to make a pound of fabric. He allowed his mind to grasp at the random bits of knowledge just so he wouldn't focus on the stain of Adam's blood on his hands. With Dean's help, he wrapped one of the panels tightly around their younger brother's chest to keep Sam's already blood-soaked jacket secure against the worst of Adam's wounds. The other panel was haphazardly tossed across the Impala's back seat, a makeshift drop-cloth to catch whatever blood might seep through the temporary bandages.

Sam climbed in the back, pressed close to Adam, kept firm pressure on the gouges on the young man's neck. Dean was back in the car a heartbeat after, and the ten-or-so mile drive back to the motel felt like crossing half a state instead of half a county.

The motel lot was nearly deserted when they pulled in, Dean skidding to a stop in front of their room. He was back out of the car, tugging open one of the rear doors as he rounded to the trunk to retrieve the first aid kit before helping Sam get Adam mostly on his feet. He fumbled the room key out of his pocket with a colorful stream of curses, then they were carrying Adam inside, gently laying him across the bed nearest the door. Sam unwrapped the silk panel from Adam's chest as Dean opened the medical kit and started setting out everything he'd need – antiseptic, gauze, scissors, a needle, catgut, tape.

“You're fuckin' lucky, kid,” Dean whispered to an unconscious Adam as he inspected the cleaned wounds welling with fresh blood at his throat and inner bicep as Sam worked on cleaning the deeper gouges across his chest. “Barely missed his jugular and carotid up here, brachial in his arm.” Dean shook his head, steady hands threading the needle and stitching the deeper gashes closed before wrapping them with fresh gauze and securing them with tape. The jagged claw-marks on Adam's chest prove to be a challenge, but Dean manages and, all in all, it takes just over an hour before the flurry of activity ceases.

But Sam was still on edge, shaking with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He hadn't said a word since they started patching up Adam, watched silently as Dean took a hypodermic needle with a dose of morphine from the kit and jabbed it into Adam's thigh before depressing the plunger.

Dean nudged Sam's shoulder with the back of his wrist, bloody gauze in both hands. “C'mon, Sammy. Let's get cleaned up, then get him changed, okay? He's gonna be fine.”

Sam stood from the edge of the mattress, watched the slow, even rise-and-fall of Adam's chest as he breathed shallowly, and followed Dean towards the bathroom. It took ten minutes of scrubbing under surprisingly hot water and half the bar of cheap soap before he couldn't see any trace of Adam's blood in the creases of his palms, the wrinkles of his knuckles, or underneath his nails.

“I'm gonna call Bobby. See if he'll let us crash at his place for a few days.”

Sam didn't argue.

 ****

oxo

Bobby was off to the Roadhouse, helping Ellen out with something or other, when the boys finally made it to his house the following evening. Dean let himself in, helped Sam with Adam before returning to the Impala for their bags. “You gonna be okay here on your own for a while?” Dean asked Sam as they stood in the kitchen, jacket still on, keys to the Impala hooked around his middle finger and pressed against his palm.

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam answered offhandedly, setting Bobby's ancient coffeemaker to percolate a fresh pot. “Why?” He finished rinsing the sludge out of the bottom of the glass pot and turned towards his brother.

“Just need a drink.”

“ _A_ drink?”

“A _few._ ” He scoffed, wiped his left hand over his face. “After yesterday...seeing Adam like that, seeing _you_...It was too close, Sam.”

Sam glanced towards the ceiling, let his gaze drop back to Dean. “I know. But, yeah, I'll be fine. Just...go do what you do.”

Dean smirked. “I'll do. Plenty.”

Sam chuckled and shook his head, filling the pot with water from the tap and pouring it into the coffeemaker. “I'll see you later.”

“Don't wait up.”

Sam stood in the kitchen until he heard the rumble of the Impala's engine, walked to the front door to make sure it was locked and to watch the car's taillights disappear down the driveway. He waited a few more minutes before heading upstairs and to Adam's room, flipping on the bedside lamp and settling down on the mattress beside his sleeping brother.

After a while, Adam yawned, started to stir, and quietly cursed in pain before he noticed Sam beside him. “Sam?”

“How you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

Sam reached a hand up, let the tips of his fingers trace over where the claw-marks were freshly bandaged on Adam's chest, pressed his palm flat over his heart, felt the steady beat. “You lost a lot of blood and Dean doped you up pretty good for the drive. You're probably gonna feel off for a while.”

Adam nodded and shifted until he was pressed closer to Sam. “You okay?”

“Better, now.” He leaned down, covered Adam's mouth with his own, a chaste, tender kiss.

The hand of Adam's good arm slipped up Sam's back, tangled in unwashed hair, used gentle pressure to deepen the kiss.

“I'm sorry about before,” Sam apologized, the words whispered against Adam's lips. “I just wanted to-”

“Give me an out. I know you're worried about how some people will react, what Dean'll think, but I _want_ this, Sam. I want _you._ ”

Sam kissed Adam again, the hand on his brother's chest slipping lower and off to the side to settle on his hip. “You scared the shit out of me last night.”

“Me? You're the one that fell from the second floor. I _watched_ you fall. I've never been so terrified in my life, not knowing if you'd still be breathing by the time I got to you.”

“But we're both okay, right?”

“What's your definition of 'okay'? 'Cause I, uh, kind of hurt like hell right now.”

“I can fix that,” Sam said slowly into Adam's ear, teeth gently grasping at the lobe. He felt Adam's skin grow hot under his hands, watched as sweat and blood mingled to pool in the shallow dips and hollows of his body like bilge water in the hull of a ship – he knew it was more than his teasing touches causing Adam's temperature to rise. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of Adam's neck and sat up, to Adam's voiced disappointment, only to retrieve two pills and a glass of water from the nightstand behind him. “You're not allergic to penicillin, are you?”

Adam leaned up on his good arm and took the offered pills. “No.” He tossed the pills into his mouth and chased them down with the whole glass of water. He handed the empty glass back to Sam, waited for his brother to return it to the nightstand before laying back down and reaching his hand back up to Sam's hair and pulling his mouth close. “Where were we?”

Sam went willingly, let Adam control the kiss until he shifted and Sam could feel the hard and insistent press of Adam's erection against his thigh. Sam's hand moved first, slipping over sweat-slick skin and pushing away restricting clothing, then he climbed down the bed, mouth trailing down the center of Adam's chest to taste salt and copper. He settled between Adam's knees on his own and leaned down, eyes locking with Adam's and holding his gaze as he took Adam's length into his mouth.

Adam couldn't reach for Sam like wanted, stitches in his right arm and across the left side of his chest and shoulder inhibiting his movements. He satisfied himself by bending his legs at the knee, feet planted firmly on the mattress so he could thrust into the slick, welcoming heat of Sam's mouth. And Sam allowed it, adjusted the angle of his throat for a smoother slide and that was it. Adam lost it.

Palms sliding up and down Adam's flanks, Sam soothed his brother through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“I almost forgot how good that could be,” Adam breathed.

Sam's mouth slipped lower, suckling at Adam's sac, then lower still, tip of his tongue gently circling the tight pucker of Adam's entrance. “Me, too.” The words were quiet, barely more than a brush of his lips against Adam's sensitive skin.

Adam bit his bottom lip to hold back a moan as Sam's tongue thrust its way inside his body. “Shit, Sam, a little warning next time?” He turned his head to focus his gaze on the open doorway. “Dean's not...”

“No,” Sam said after slicking up two fingers of his right hand with an obscene amount of spit and pressing them into Adam's hole. He nipped at the inside of Adam's thigh. “He needed to blow off some steam, after yesterday. It's just you and me.”

“Thank God. Don't know how long I can stay- _shit._ ” He bit his lip and arched his back, fingers curling in the worn flannel sheets beneath him. “How long I can stay quiet.”

Sam moved back up Adam's body, fingers still working, propped himself up on his left elbow to stare down at Adam's face, careful not to settle any of his weight against his younger brother. “Don't have to be quiet.” He latched his mouth onto Adam's right nipple, caught the nub with his teeth and tugged, soothed the pain with gentle swipes of his tongue before doing it again.

“You gonna quit teasing and fuck me anytime soon?” Adam questioned, voice low and rough with need.

Sam grinned, slow and devious. “No need to rush tonight. Gonna take my time with you.”

Adam's breath hitched as the tips of Sam's fingers grazed that tight, sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside him, felt himself growing hard again at the thought of slow, lazy sex with Sam. “Please.”

Sam sighed against the side of Adam's neck, the raw want in Adam's voice making his untouched cock ache. “Say it again.”

Adam's hands slipped up Sam's back, fingers tangling in his brother's long hair and tugging as he begged, “ _Please._ ”

He didn't make Adam ask again, removed his fingers from Adam's hole and made quick work of his clothes, tossing his threadbare tee behind him and shucking his underwear and ancient sleep-pants towards the foot of the bed. He knelt between Adam's spread thighs again, pausing to slick himself up with the precome leaking gratuitously from the head of his cock before slipping a hand beneath Adam's right knee and pushing his leg up and back, better exposing his worked-open hole. Sam used his shoulder to keep Adam's leg in place while he leaned forward, guided himself into that sheathing heat and pressed on until Adam was breathing harshly and begging beneath him.

“Shit, Sam. 's so good.” Adam pulled Sam's face close to his so they were sharing the same air, so they could look each other in the eyes as Sam slowly rolled his hips, torturous drag.

The way they were moving, pleasure built for what felt like hours before they were nearly blindsided by their orgasms, but Sam stilled his hips completely, buried deep inside Adam as he could go, the hand not supporting half his weight above his brother firmly gripping the base of Adam's dick, denying them both release. “Could do this all night,” he whispered raggedly into Adam's ear, bottom lip catching and dragging across Adam's cheek as he moved his mouth to cover Adam's. He kissed like they fucked, slow and deep, and Adam shook beneath him, tips of his fingers digging into Sam's back, urging. Sam uncurled his fingers from around Adam's cock and braced his elbows on either side of Adam's head on the mattress, started the lazy thrust of his hips again, not taking his mouth away from Adam's.

There was barely enough space between their bodies for Adam to get his hand between them, on his dick. He titled his hips up to give himself a little more room and Sam slipped impossibly deeper into him, slamming against his prostate and that was enough, sent him crashing over the edge of ecstasy and spilling in hot ropes across his belly and Sam's.

Sam caught Adam's bottom lip between his teeth as his brother panted his way through his second orgasm, picked up his pace to chase after his own. “Not letting you go again. Promise.” He breathed into Adam's mouth, felt heat and pressure building as Adam's slick-smooth muscles fluttered around him.

Adam started moving again, met Sam's thrusts, one hand and both feet braced on the mattress. “Come on. You gonna come for me?” Adam asked, low, dirty whisper, echoing the words Sam had uttered to him that very first time they were together.

It wasn't lost on Sam. His laugh was interrupted by a sharp intake of breath as he finally caught up with his elusive release and it burned through him like wildfire, sparking hot across every nerve ending in his body. He barely had the presence of mind to collapse to Adam's side, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his brother's shoulder near the peeling tape of one bandage.

Once Adam's room had fallen silent again, their breathing having returned somewhat back to normal, Adam pushed against Sam. “Think we got time to shower?”

“Mm,” Sam answered in an affirmative grunt. “Go for it.”

Adam nudged him again. “Sam.”

“Hm?” He sounded half-asleep already.

“Think _we_ got time to shower?” Adam repeated.

Sam's head raised from the mattress, heavy-lidded eyes focusing on Adam's face. His brows lifted ever so slightly. “Do we?”

“That's what I'm asking _you_ , dumbass. Not looking for a round two or anything, just might need some help. Limited movement and all that. But if you think Dean's gonna be back soon...”

Sam glanced at the red LED numbers of the ancient alarm clock radio on the nightstand. “Should be fine. Dean's probably deciding which girl he's gonna bang in the Impala's back seat right about now, so...” He pushed himself up off the mattress with a grunt and looked back down at Adam. “You need help getting up?”

“Nah. I think I can manage at least that.”

Sam stood by the bedside regardless, kissed Adam slowly when he was on his feet then led him to the bathroom just down the hall. He started the water and let Adam climb into the tub first. “I'm gonna go grab towels. Be right back.”

Adam busied himself with removing his bandages as the water heated up, then stepped under the spray to wet and soap up a washrag. He washed his chest and stomach and was working on his dick when Sam pushed the shower curtain back and slipped in behind him.

“Want me to do that?” Sam asked, kissing the side of Adam's neck, the sweat-salt taste of his skin diluted by the water beating down on them.

Adam tilted his head to the left to give Sam better access. “Probably shouldn't. We'd run out of hot water.”

“I s'pose you're right.” Sam reached for the shampoo and lathered up Adam's hair, then his own, and they took turns rinsing it out before Sam took the washrag from Adam and slowly washed the rest of Adam's body that he couldn't reach on his own. They shared a few more kisses beneath the spray, but the hot water didn't last long and was already cooling as the last of the soapsuds swirled around the drain. Sam reached around behind Adam and turned the water off as Adam pulled the shower curtain back open.

More kisses were traded as they dried off, Sam's mouth gliding over Dean's neat rows of stitches, Adam's hands resting against the small of Sam's back content to just touch. They stayed quiet while Sam sterilized and balmed and rebandaged Adam's wounds.

They headed back out into the hall, Adam turning left towards his room while Sam stalled just outside the bathroom door. “You hungry?”

Adam stopped in front of his open doorway. “Starving.”

Sam nodded. “Okay. Take your time getting dressed and I'll go get something ready.”

Adam watched his brother disappear into his room then turned into his own. He dressed slowly, feeling the pull of the stitches when he stretched too far, but he did manage to get into a t-shirt without help. Once fully clothed, he headed down to the kitchen where he could hear Sam moving about. “What're you making me, _honey_?” Adam asked jokingly, pressing up behind Sam, hands slipping under the front of Sam's slightly-wrinkled tee to splay his fingers across firm-muscled skin.

Sam laughed and covered Adam's hands with his own. “Just a turkey sandwich, _baby._ Was either that or tuna. And I figured, after that truck stop in Arkansas...”

Adam pressed his forehead against Sam's shoulder blade. “That was the _worst._ ”

“Hence, the turkey.”

“Thanks.” Adam dropped his hands from Sam's body and moved to the window over the sink as Sam finished putting together the sandwiches. “Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“Did Dean get back while I was getting dressed?”

“What?”

“The Impala's in the driveway.”

“ _What?”_ ” Sam repeated, moving to the window to see for himself. “He must've...”

“Do you think he...?” Adam turned to Sam, uncertain as to whether he should feel panicked or relieved that Dean may have finally learned of their clandestine affair.

Sam shook his head. “I don't know.” He stepped back from the sink and moved around Adam to put things away in the fridge. “I would think he'd have- I don't know.” He pushed Adam's sandwich towards him across the counter on a paper towel.

Adam took his sandwich and sat at the small table, waited for Sam to sit across from him before he started eating. “So, what are we going to do? Wait and see if he says something?”

“I think that's all we _can_ do,” Sam said around a mouthful of bread and turkey and lettuce.

“He's gonna find out sooner or later, right?”

Sam put his sandwich down and swallowed the food in his mouth. “Yeah, but- Let's at least wait until you're healed up before we go crossing that bridge. 'Cause if he doesn't know – and I'm guessing by the lack of any kind of yelling or fighting going on right now that he _doesn't_ -”

“You don't know he'd react that way.”

“It's _Dean._ There's either going to be an extraordinarily bad argument or serious denial.”

“You don't give him enough credit.”

“You know something about him I don't?”

Adam could sense Sam starting to become hostile and didn't want to fight. “Look, I'm just saying that he might be more accepting of us than you think.”

“I don't think it's the gay part we've got to worry about, but the gay _-for-each-other_ part.”

Adam shook his head, folded up half of his uneaten sandwich in his paper towel and stood to put it in the fridge. “We _will_ tell him, won't we?”

Sam glanced up at Adam before returning his gaze to the sandwich in front of him. “Yeah. Of course.”

But there was something in his voice that made Adam doubt he meant it.


	5. inferno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam finds Dean asleep on the couch in Bobby's living room – and takes matters into his own hands.

Adam watched Sam from the doorway for a few more moments before turning and leaving the kitchen, heading out towards the staircase. He paused at the bottom of the steps, catching sight of Dean's boots propped up on the arm of the couch in the living room, and cast a glance back down the hall.

Quietly, Adam walked into the living room, took the half-full bottle of whiskey from where it was tucked between Dean's arm and his side and set it on the coffee table, nudging Dean's thigh with his knee. “Hey.”

Dean squeezed his eyes closed and grunted softly as he tried to roll over and face the back of the couch. “Go 'way.”

“Dean.” Adam caught his half-brother's shoulder, held him still.

Dean cracked one eye open and peered at Adam in the dimness of the living room. “Hmm?”

“What time'd you get back? We didn't hear you come in.” He carefully watched Dean's face for any hint of a reaction as Dean pushed himself up onto an elbow and blinked at him. Something flickered there but passed before Adam could discern what it was.

“Not that long ago,” Dean said, voice low and rough. He cleared his throat and sat up completely, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers. “How's the shoulder?”

“Sore. Pulled the stitches a little earlier.”

“Yeah?” Dean bit at his lower lip, gaze not meeting Adam's.

“It was my fault. But, hey. I'm gonna head on upstairs. I think Sam's still-”

“Adam?” Sam asked from the end of the hall at the edge of the living room.

“What?”

“What're you...” He saw Dean on the couch peering back at him from around Adam's hip. “Uh, hey, Dean.”

“Hey,” Dean greeted back, just as awkwardly.

“I'm gonna go to bed,” Adam said, backing away from Dean and heading towards Sam. He stretched to his full height – just taller than Dean's six-one – and squared his shoulders, ignoring the slight tug of his stitches, as he crossed the short distance.

Sam's gaze flitted between his brothers' faces as Adam slowly made his approach, trying to anticipate whatever Adam was going to do because Sam recognized that determined set of Adam's eyes.

And Dean. Dean watched the scene in front of him with curiosity. Adam could feel the weight of his oldest brother's stare on his back even as he kept his focus on Sam, on what he was about to do. He sensed Sam's obvious anxiousness, placed a comforting hand on Sam's hip, thumb brushing under the hem against smooth, heated flesh.

Sam's eyes were immediately on Adam's when he felt the contact that wouldn't have been a big deal had it just been the two of them, but with Dean _right there..._

But Adam had already made up his mind. Couldn't do this on Sam's terms and have him start doubting their tenuous relationship and back out because he was afraid of telling Dean. Besides, Adam had a distinct gut-feeling that Dean not only wouldn't _care_ about the nature of his and Sam's beyond-brothers bond, but that he already _knew_ about it. So he angled his head just so as he raised up slightly on his toes to brush his mouth over Sam's. “You coming to bed?” he asked, dropping his hand on Sam's hip with a ghost of a caress over his cotton-clad thigh. He turned away from Sam's shocked, wide-eyed stare and started up the stairs. “Goodnight, Dean.”

Sam stood motionless at the foot of the stairs for countless minutes that stretched out like hours, wondering hopefully – pointlessly – that, maybe, Dean hadn't seen Adam's brief, chaste kiss. Chaste in and of itself, but combined with the unconscious brush of Adam's thumb against the warm skin of Sam's hip, it spoke of a familiar intimacy. And part of Sam wanted to climb the stairs and disappear into his own room and pretend like nothing had happened. But he couldn't do that: deny Adam, lie to Dean. Besides, while it might not have been an ideal way to reveal his and Adam's relationship, another part of himself was relieved. He knew he should say something, but he didn't even know where to start.

It was Dean that broke the tense silence, cleared his throat as he reached for the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. “Sammy?”

Sam took a deep breath to steel himself for whatever was about to happen and turned to face his brother. But Dean's face was carefully blank, even his eyes not giving anything away, as he held the open bottle towards Sam. Slowly, he walked further into the living room, accepting the bottle and taking a healthy swig before handing it back. “So.”

Dean raised his eyebrows ever so slightly, taking a drink himself. He rolled the bottle between his hands, gaze focused on a gouge in one of the wooden floorboards. “So,” he echoed. “How long have you...?” His left hand gripped the neck of the whiskey bottle while his right made a vague, circular gesture.

Sam leaned against the back of the easy chair diagonal from the couch. “Since August,” he said quietly. “South Texas.”

Dean nodded. “Is it serious?”

Sam hesitated, unsure how to answer that, feeling the heat of his embarrassment burning across his chest and up his neck.

“You fucking him?”

Dean's crudeness made him flinch, but he answered with a short nod, not even bothering to see if Dean was looking at him or not.

“You love him?”

He glanced up at his brother, hearing the roughness of emotion in Dean's voice, saw the weary resignation on his face. “Yeah.”

Dean shrugged a shoulder. “Okay.”

“ _Okay?_ ”

“What do you _want_ me to say, Sam? That it's wrong and disgusting? That it's gotta stop?” He shook his head. “This job- this _life_ is _hard_. We both know it. Finding somebody that _gets_ that? That understands and is still willing to be with you? There's nothing wrong with that, even if- even if it's with...your brother.”

“Dean.”

“Just be careful, Sammy, okay? Don't get hurt, and don't you hurt him.”

“I won't.” They were both silent for a couple of long moments. “Dean?”

Dean took another pull from the bottle before recapping it. “Hmm?”

“How long have you known?”

He shrugged again. “A month, maybe? I don't know. I figured something was up, the way the two of you were acting. Then, this last job. I just- I don't know why you kept it a secret.”

“Really? We're _brothers_. We're not supposed to- to _feel_ like this.”

“I guess what I meant is that I don't know why you kept it a secret _from me. We_ are brothers, Sam, and nothing – who you love, who you fuck – is gonna make _me_...love you any less.”

Sam could do nothing more than stare at Dean – it wasn't often his brother spoke so openly about feelings much less _love._ Brotherly or otherwise. He had to wonder how much Dean had had to drink at the bar, if he'd had more than just half a bottle of whiskey when he returned to Bobby's. “Dean.”

“Yeah. Total chick-flick moment.” His nervous chuckle sounded forced. “You should probably, you know.” He nodded towards the stairs.

“Are we...are we okay?”

“Of course.”

Sam waited another minute, watched Dean as he purposefully avoided Sam's gaze. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“'Night.”

The stairs creaked loudly in the quiet of the house under Sam's shifting weight as he climbed them. He passed Adam's open door, saw him sitting there, waiting. “That couldn't've been too bad,” Adam said, offering a small smile in apology. “Couldn't even hear you guys.”

“We didn't argue. He said he knew- well, that he'd assumed, anyway.”

Adam pushed off the bed, crossed the short distance to where Sam stood, filling up the doorway, the bright hallway light playing shadows off Sam's profile, his face a study in contrast. “He's okay with us, isn't he? Like I told you he would be.” He moved closer, hands settling on Sam's hips before slipping underneath his shirt to skim over his lower back as Adam nipped at his bottom lip.

Sam walked Adam backwards, out of the doorway and towards the bed. “How'd you know?”

“My birthday.” He opened his mouth to Sam's, kissed him deep until he almost forgot what he wanted to say. “We snuck out the back door while Dean was hitting on that girl at the bar. You remember?”

Sam's fingertips traced idle patterns over Adam's spine and ribs, nails scratching lightly. “Mm,” he affirmed, nose brushing against the sensitive place beneath Adam's ear where neck met jaw as he sucked a bruise over Adam's thrumming pulse. “Remember tearing a hole in the knee of my favorite jeans, too.”

Adam's laugh left his lungs on a rush of breath that turned into a gasp as Sam introduced teeth and bit gently at his throat. “What you _don't_ remember...shit, Sam.” He let his hands slip lower to Sam's ass to pull their hips flush. “Dean. He didn't- He came looking for us.”

Sam stilled completely, hands going slack on Adam's body. “What- what are you saying?”

“Dean watched us. He watched you go down on me in that alley.” He tightened his grip on Sam, slowly thrust against Sam's hard length with his own and groaned. “I could see how hard he was, Sam, just from watching us. He touched himself; bet he got off thinkin' about it later.”

Sam's hands fisted against Adam's back. “Fuck.”

“Probably sprawled out on the couch right now, hand on his dick, tryin' to imagine what we're up here doing.”

“Don't gotta imagine when I can watch,” Dean said, voice low and gravel-rough, from the doorway a matter of feet behind Sam.

“Yeah,” Adam breathed, cock twitching against his hip, against Sam. “Shit, yeah.”

“You okay with that, Sammy?” Dean entered the room, rounded the bed to stand by the open window, starry night sky as a backdrop.

Sam's gaze held Dean's as his hands clenched at the fabric of Adam's sweats. Adam's mouth closed over the highest point of his clavicle where the bone met the thick cord of muscle from his neck at his shoulder. “Yeah,” he said, the word drawing out into a moan, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Adam tugged at the hem of Sam's tee. “C'mon, Sam, gotta see you.”

Sam pulled his shirt over his head and carefully helped Adam out of his as well before their mouths met in a clashing of teeth and slick tongues. Adam wedged his hand between their bodies, flat of his palm dragging over the head of Sam's cock. “Oh, God.”

“Sure you're gonna be able to just watch, Dean?” Adam asked, tossing a heated glance over his shoulder, Sam's mouth dropping to his neck to mark him up.

Dean pressed the heel of his hand against the tenting denim at his groin, gaze stuck on the place Adam's hand disappeared between his and Sam's hips. “No,” he ground out, pushing off the windowsill and moving to stand beside his brothers.

Adam's hand left Sam's dick to wrap around the back of Dean's neck and pull him down to his mouth. “Shit, Dean,” Adam laughed when they separated.

Sam's eyes met Dean's again. “Sammy. Fuck.” Dean's fingers wound into Sam's hair before he attacked his mouth with brutal want.

“Come on,” Adam panted, pushing at Sam's pants to release his cock and wrapping his hand around the thick girth of it. “Bed. Now. _Please._ ”

They backed up as a group, Adam's hand tugging at Sam's leaking cock, Dean with his tongue shoved halfway down Sam's throat as they kissed desperately. “So good, Sammy,” Dean said quietly, abused lips catching and dragging against the stubbled skin of Sam's cheek. He kicked out of his boots as he tugged off his shirts, shoved down his jeans and briefs, and went back to kissing Sam as he slowly jacked himself.

Adam sat heavily on the bed when the backs of his knees hit the mattress, putting him nearly at eye-level with Sam's dick. He leaned forward and latched his mouth onto the head, curled the fingers of his left hand around the base as the fingers of his right covered Dean's on Dean's cock. The eldest Winchester brothers moaned in something too rough and raw to be considered harmony.

One hand cradling the back of Adam's skull, the other gripping at Dean's hip, Sam tipped his head back and closed his eyes tight. “What are we doing?” he gritted out.

Adam pulled off Sam's dick long enough to answer, “Nothin' none of us don't want. 's good, isn't it?”

Sam glanced from Adam's wide, earnest, lust-filled eyes to the undeniable heat of desire of Dean's stare. “Yeah, it's good.”

“Good,” Dean said and bit at Sam's bottom lip before pushing him closer to the bed. He climbed onto the mattress beside Adam, sat on his knees.

“Want you to fuck me, Dean. Can he, Sam? Is that okay?” Adam shoved further back onto the rumpled blankets, spread his knees wide as he stroked himself idly.

“Oh, fuck,” Sam breathed. “Yeah, Adam, whatever you want.”

“Want you to fuck Dean while he's inside me.”

“Fuck, yeah. Me, too.” Dean pushed Adam down to the mattress, sucked at his own fingers before pressing them against Adam's hole, still slightly loose from having Sam buried inside him earlier in the evening.

Sam pulled open the nightstand drawer and dug out the somehow half-buried lube as Dean and Adam situated themselves on the bed, tore two condoms off the strip of packets, and climbed onto the mattress behind Dean. Too many lines already crossed, Sam didn't hesitate spreading apart the taut cheeks of Dean's ass and swiping his slick tongue over his hole.

“Jesus _fuck!_ ” Dean arched his back, cock throbbing hard and dribbling precome, pushed closer to Sam's mouth. “God, yeah.”

It didn't take Dean long to work Adam open, Sam's steady hands rolling a condom over Dean's straining erection, Sam's own cock riding slick along Dean's crack as their bodies pressed close. Adam pulled his knees up towards his chest as he watched his brothers kiss over Dean's shoulder and Sam guided Dean's dick into Adam's twitching hole. “Oh, God. Shit, yeah. _Dean._ ”

Once Dean's balls were snug up to the curve of Adam's ass, Sam press a wide palm against the small of his back, pushed him just the slightest bit further over Adam's body. “Don't move, and spread your legs for me.”

Dean did as Sam instructed even as he felt the slick-hot muscles of Adam's inner passage clench and unclench around him. He braced his hands above Adam's shoulders, leaned up Adam's chest to kiss him as Sam tongue-fucked his hole. He moaned into Adam's mouth, pressed harder back against Sam's, was held immobile by Sam's gigantic hands.

Two lubed fingers replaced Sam's tongue, then three. Then Sam was carefully tearing open the other condom packet with his teeth. He pulled his slick fingers from Dean's hole and slid the condom down his cock, stroked himself once, twice with the excess lube smeared across his hand, and started pressing into Dean. Panting with restraint, he slowly sank into his brother until he was buried deep, front of his thighs pressed to the backs of Dean's. “ _Dean._ God.”

“Move, goddammit,” Adam begged from beneath them, rolling his hips up best he could under the weight bearing down over him.

Sam pulled out halfway, Dean following, seeking more, better friction, and Sam pounded into him hard, forcing him back inside Adam and they let loose a chorus of moans and grunts, repeating the action. Adam's calves brushed over Sam's hips and sides as he arched up into Dean. Sam stroked fingers along the outside of Adam's knee before both of his hands went to Dean's hips, gripped him tight, thrust harder, knocking Dean down to his elbows.

“Come on, Sammy, fuck me. Yeah, yeah, just like that,” Dean bit out, spreading his knees even wider so Sam could go deeper.

Sam affixed his mouth to the back of Dean's neck, licking, biting, sucking; marked Dean up as he was wont to do to Adam. “Gonna feel me, all over.” His teeth dragged over Dean's jackrabbiting pulse, sunk shallowly into taut, straining muscle of his neck.

Dean kissed Adam filthily, all tongue and teeth and no finesse, forcing a hand between their bodies to wrap around Adam's dick. Two quick tugs and a well-aimed thrust glancing across his prostate had him coming hard and hot all over his belly, striping up Dean's forearm. “ _Shit,_ ” Adam exhaled shakily, fingernails digging into Dean's shoulder blades. Dean continued moving with Sam, brutal thrusts driving him forward. “Yeah, Sam. Fuck him hard, make him come.” He dug his heels into Sam's ass, met Dean's thrusts best he could in his position.

“So close,” Dean groaned, forehead pressed into Adam's sweat-sticky shoulder. “Sam. Sammy, please.”

“Yeah, Dean. Yeah, got you.” He smoothed a hand up along Dean's spine, other gripping him tightly at the hip, changed the angle of his thrusts until Dean was moaning nonsense and Sam's name, rocking back into Sam then forward into Adam.

“Yeah- there, right _there._ ” Dean's fingers clawed into the rumpled sheets, let Sam fuck into him. “Fuck. Sam.”

Sam felt sweat trickling down the back of his neck, between his shoulders, quickly shoved his damp bangs out of his eyes, gaze focused where he disappeared into Dean's body. Both hands on Dean's hips, Sam dragged him back onto his cock, rocked back onto his knees and hauled Dean up onto his lap. “Oh, _fuck._ ”

“Oh God,” Dean gasped, shooting into the condom clinging loosely to his dick as Sam penetrated him impossibly deep, slammed right into his prostate.

The tight, rippling heat of Dean's ass gripping his cock had Sam following nearly immediately, huge hands stroking over Dean's tense thighs, fingertips digging into muscle.

Adam rolled to the side, watched as Sam and Dean came down from their orgasm, Dean's head turned at an impossible angle to close his mouth over Sam's in a slow, gentle kiss. “God, that was...” He shook his head, fingers ghosting over Dean's knee. “Awesome.”

Sam lifted Dean from his lap, playfully shoved him down to the mattress and reached for the condom hanging from Dean's cock before slipping off his own. He grabbed his shirt from the floor and straddled one of Adam's thighs as he wiped the tacky come from Adam's stomach. Passing the shirt to Dean, he leaned down and covered Adam's mouth with his own, kissing him lazily and deep. “Fucking crazy's what it was,” he laughed against Adam's slick lips.

“Crazy _hot_ ,” Dean amended, tossing the shirt to the floor, reaching for Sam's hip and tugging him down to the mattress between him and Adam.

Sam was still trying to wrap his mind around the _how_ it all happened as he collapsed against Adam's side, Dean pressing up tight against his back, barely enough room for two grown men on the full-sized mattress, let alone three.

“Stop thinking so loud, Sammy,” Dean chastised, palm grazing along Sam's hip, pressing his nose into the sweat-damp hair at Sam's nape. He sucked a kiss into the salty skin there. “We'll figure it all out later. Too fucking...fucked out to think about it now.”

“Mm,” Adam agreed. “Was good.” He rolled onto his side, onto his good shoulder, and slipped one of his legs between Sam's. “ _We're_ good, right?”

Sam kissed Adam again, brief and chaste, close-lipped. “Of course.” He felt Dean's heat behind him, Dean's mouth on his skin, held Adam a little closer. “Better than.”

“Then there's nothing to figure out.”

It was kind of hard to argue with that logic – wasn't like they could go back to _before_ after what had happened between them. Wasn't like any of them, if they were completely honest with themselves, really _wanted_ to go back. Sam thought back to the words Dean had spoken to him not even an hour prior. _This life is hard...finding somebody that gets that? That understands and is still willing to be with you? There's nothing wrong with that...Nothing is gonna make me love you any less._

Seemed they'd all gotten lucky, Sam thought as he drifted off to sleep, Adam's breath ghosting over his throat and Dean's light snores in his ear. They _got_ each other, in every way. They loved each other in ways few others could ever understand. Brothers, lovers; three strong, through whatever could be thrown their way, and this new level to their relationship would only make them stronger. And there was nothing wrong with that.


End file.
